


Not even Mycroft can plan for everything.

by PowerOfFunk



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fem!mycroft, Female Mycroft, Insecurity, Miscarriage, POV Female Character, Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, nearly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-25
Updated: 2016-08-25
Packaged: 2018-08-11 01:17:01
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7869850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PowerOfFunk/pseuds/PowerOfFunk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Title may change because it's crap. Fem!Mycroft discovers that she's pregnant. This is not ideal, and she has no idea what to do about telling Greg. Mystrade.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not even Mycroft can plan for everything.

'Shit.'

'Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.' She thought at a million miles an hour, lacking her usual mental eloquence.

This could not be happening. Not to her. To her of all people.

How could she have been so careless? No. That wasn't it. She had been perfectly careful, but sometimes these things happened. Contraception didn't always work...

Greg. She should call Greg. Her hand got halfway to her pocket before she realised that that was a very stupid thing to do.

She had to decide what to do herself. Greg wouldn't want this. She knew how she felt about the man, there was no escaping it... but she knew that for him it was just a casual fling. They weren't ready for this.

He had never said as much but she knew it.

He told her that she was beautiful, but she knew that was just because that was what he thought that she expected to hear.

It was true that though she had been large in her past, but through her diet she had lost a lot of weight, and she always dressed immaculately in designer suits. She styled her hair nicely and her skin was clear and young looking. Despite all of this, she would never call herself attractive. Not ever.

Certainly not beautiful. Not enough for Greg.

Honestly she didn't know why he was even with her. She saw the looks that other people gave him, and she knew that he saw them too. He probably just realised how desperate she was and couldn't bear to dump her so that he could find someone better... He was always too kind.

And her personality! Even her own family couldn't stand her. Mummy was always nagging her and Sherlock looked at her like something that he had scraped from the bottom of his shoe. The only friend that she had was Athena, or Valeria as she was known today. They had watched Conan together on a rare night off, everyone else was a aspirational sycophant, or an open rival or enemy. Regardless, their relationship was still more professional than anything else.

She wasn't fun, she wasn't interesting, all she had was her intellect, her position, and a sort of imposing charisma.

But no. If she told him about her... situation, it would only drive him away. He would probably think that she was trying to trap him.

No. She would have to choose. Greg, or the baby.

With the baby, she would have a little piece of him forever, but with Greg... she could pretend the man loved her at least. Just until he decided that enough was enough and he wanted something long term. Though no-one who knew her would possibly think it, she was desperate for anything that she could get from the detective inspector.

She couldn't decide yet. She had to get back to work; so she forced it to the back of her mind.

“Is everything alright ma'am?” Asked Valeria, concerned, when she came into work only a few minutes after Mycroft herself had sat down at her desk.

“Yes, certainly, everything's fine.” Her voice was as calm as usual, but she knew that Valeria didn't believe her. She could mask her emotions so well usually, but right now it was so very hard to keep her face straight and her voice steady, and Valeria was smart and knew her well.

The next time she looked up from her paperwork there was an hot cup of tea on her desk, and a rare chocolate biscuit.

* * *

Finally the day was over. In some ways it brought her relief, but in others it was almost painful. Now there was not much to distract her from her current predicament.

No. She needed to talk to Sherlock and make sure that he had not forgotten mummy's birthday. She had been putting it off but of course if he forgot then Mycroft was sure to get the blame

It was a Thursday. She could have called Lestrade instead, he would agree to meet her. He always did.

But no. She couldn't see him right now, and besides she had to get this over with at least.

She took a car over to Baker Street, Valeria sitting next to her. It was getting late by now, nearly ten o'clock, but then, she always did work late.

Stepping out of the car she grabbed her umbrella and asked Valeria to wait for her.

She gracefully climbed the steps to the front door and knocked, smiling pleasantly when Mrs Hudson opened the door.

“Ah, Mrs Hudson. Always a pleasure. Is Sherlock in?” She knew that he was of course, but it was always polite to ask.

Mrs Hudson welcomed her in and she made her way up to Sherlock's flat. She didn't bother to knock. John would still be out at work and Sherlock would definitely know that it was his sister and would never deign to open the door to her.

Sherlock was in 'one of his dark moods,' and was predictably stagnating on the sofa, but he looked up to acknowledge her with an annoyed glare.

“To what do I owe the pleasure Mycroft?”

Mycroft ignored the slight pang at her brother's attitude. She was of course used to his disdain but it still bothered her, though she always took care not to let it show on her face and made a special effort to sound put upon as she spoke to him.

“Don't worry brother I'm not... staying.” She wrinkled her nose slightly at the empty take away boxes and dirty cups that littered the room and brushed an imaginary piece of dust from her shoulder. “I just popped by to make sure that you hadn't forgotten mummy's birthday next week-” A quick look at Sherlock's face told her that he had, “and to ask if you wanted me to arrange a gift...”

“Do what you want Mycroft I don't care. Leave now please, John will be coming home soon.”

Mycroft couldn't help but flex her right hand slightly on the handle of her umbrella, out of irritation.

“Good day, Sherlock.”

When she was once again stood on the street she took a moment to rearrange her feelings. It had always been one of her strengths that she had a very well organised brain. No matter how intelligent you were, it wasn't worth as much if you couldn't organise your thoughts. It was why she was still Sherlock's intellectual superior. One day he would learn.

Breathing deeply she tried to relax as she strode towards the waiting car.

If she had of been calmer she might have been more observant. If she had of been more observant she would have noticed the hurried footsteps coming closer.

Before she knew that anything was happening there was an huge impact to her left side that sent her sprawling to the floor, her head colliding with the stoop of Sherlock's flat. Someone else fell on top of her then and landed right on her stomach sending a shocking pain through her lower body and her vision whited out for a moment.

The next thing the weight left her as someone hauled the unknown man up, shouting at him, and Valeria was at her side, ordering her to breathe and trying to pull her to her feet.

Mycroft did as she was told and tried to concentrate on her breathing, holding onto Valeria. Her legs felt weak and could hardly hold her up. She felt lightheaded and sick.

“Valeria- something's wrong.” She could feel wetness on her legs and looked down to see rivulets of blood running down her pale skin. 'No. That wasn't right. That shouldn't be happening.' Her thoughts were foggy and confused, like she had dredge each one up through treacle.

She heard a woman scream and fractions of someone talking on a phone.

“Ambulance... blood... accident-”

Her legs finally collapsed underneath her and Valeria lowered her to sit on the floor, leaning against the younger woman.

She reached up to touch the side of her head where she had hit the edge of the step and her hand came back covered in crimson liquid.

Darkness began to close in around her and her ears were filled with a roaring.

A sudden pain in her face brought her crashing back to reality and she looked up to see Sherlock crouched in front of her. He had slapped her! Hard. He hadn't had to resort to that since he was seven. She idly noticed that he hadn't even bothered to put on his shoes.

He looked angry. She couldn't possibly have done anything to bother him in the last two minutes since she had left his presence.

“Sherlock...” She reached up to touch his face but stopped just before she reached him. Her hand was still covered in her own blood. She lowered it back to her own lap and then remembered why the blood wasn't supposed to be there. Her words tumbled over her tongue like she was drunk.

“Sherlock- I need- I need to go to hospital.” He must know already. He had seen the blood. Sherlock would know.

He poked at her head wound gently, carefully ignoring the other blood. “I know Mycroft. You'll be fine. You're ego is far too big to let something like this take you out.” There was something off about his voice but she couldn't quite identify it.

“Not me, Sherlock.” She could feel tears starting to run down her face now. “My baby Sherlock. You have to help my baby!” Greg's baby.

His eyes widened a little at that. There was no way that Sherlock had missed what was going on from the blood on her legs and the floor, it was more like he hadn't expected her to honestly care about it.

Mycroft couldn't remember much that happened after that. There was the whirling of the ambulance lights and then her concussion got the better of her.

* * *

When she woke up, she could hear the soft beeping of a heart monitor, and for a second she thought that she felt someone holding her hand; but when she groaned and opened her eyes there was no-one else in the room except for Sherlock, who was sat in a chair by her feet.

He was watching her so Mycroft tried to sit up, but was hindered by the strong pain in her abdomen.

Not wanting to appear to weak in front of her younger brother she lay back down.

“Sherlock. Is it- Is it okay?”

Of course Sherlock didn't need to ask what she meant.

“They saved the baby. It wasn't as bad as it looked once they stopped the bleeding.”

“Oh... that's good then.” Mycroft waited for Sherlock to do something. To say something or to leave. God knew he wasn't known for staying in her presence unnecessarily.

He didn't do either for a long time.

Eventually he looked back to her and away, as though apparently debating whether or not to mention something. “Lestrade called me to ask me to go to a crime scene. I told him that I couldn't because my sister was in hospital.” His face gave away nothing.

Mycroft tried to keep her face smooth and her voice unaffected as she replied. “I see. Thank you then, I suppose.”

“That's not all.” Her heart beat wildly in her chest. “His reaction was... interesting. In fact he's on his way over now.”

“Sherlock! You didn't tell him?!” She was panicking now. He couldn't know about the baby!

Sherlock smirked at her. “No, I didn't elaborate, I just told him that you'd hit your head... Lestrade? Really?”

Despite the jab she felt relief flood through her. Sherlock might not like her very much and he might make comments about her weight, but he rarely did things that were truly cruel.

“Sherlock- if he finds out-”

As if on cue the door flew open and Lestrade strode in and went straight over to sit on the side of Mycroft's bed, taking her hand, despite the other chairs available in the large private room.

Upon seeing that Mycroft was awake he visibly relaxed and smiled haltingly. “Mycroft, how are you feeling?”

She couldn't help but smile back at his earnest but nervous expression. “Like I hit my head and had a large man crash into me.”

Apparently he didn't find her little joke very funny as he frowned angrily. “It's not funny Mycroft. What happened? Sherlock wouldn't tell me over the phone?”

“I'm not quite sure, I-”

“It was only an accident,” Sherlock stated in the tone of voice that he reserved for recounting the most boring of stories. “A purse snatcher in a hurry to get away wasn't looking where he was going and neither was Mycroft. He ran into her and knocked her over, where she hit her fat head on the step outside my front door.”

Greg reached up and stroked her hair carefully, taking care of her head wound.

Sherlock looked at the two of them with disgust and got up to leave. He paused at the door though and added awkwardly : “And I suppose I should add a congratulations for the two of you.”

His face shifts slightly as he takes in Mycroft's terrified eyes and Lestrade's own confused ones.

“Ah. I see. You haven't told him yet.” Apparently Sherlock had assumed that it was only the near miscarriage that his sister had wanted to keep to herself, not the pregnancy over all. He thought, almost guiltily that he should have expected something more, due to the whole clandestine aspect their little affair. “Well I'd better be getting off now, John will be home and wondering where I am.”

“Piss off Sherlock!” Mycroft yelled at him and Sherlock narrowly made it through the door before Mycroft's vase of flowers crashed against the wall next to him. She never had been any good at aiming. Or sport. Or fighting... but it wasn't going to stop her from trying.

Lestrade swings back around to look at his partner, the worry bringing lines to his face once more. “What's he talking about Mycroft?” it was true that Sherlock had said congratulations but with him that could mean anything, and not necessarily anything that an average human being would consider a positive thing.

This was it. It was over.

“I'm sorry Greg. It was an accident. I really don't know how it happened! I was careful!” Her usual composure was gone.

“Mycroft calm down! What's wrong? What have you done?” He shifted closer to her and held her hand a little tighter.

She breathed deeply. Better just to spit it out. She knew when he was like this he wouldn't leave something alone until he got an answer. “I'm pregnant, Gregory.” She could feel her eyes beginning to burn with tears as she anticipated the end of their relationship.

In any other situation she would have laughed out loud at the expression on Lestrade's face, but now all she could do was concentrate on not shaking with fear in front of him. He looked so shocked and surprised; he may as well of had the sword of Damocles hanging over his head.

“It's yours.” She clarified, just to make sure that he knew for sure without having to ask any awkward questions. It seemed that he didn't have any doubts about that after all as he let out a barking laugh. Well naturally he had known that it was his. Who else would want her?

He rubbed her hand slightly and stared at her unblinkingly. Mycroft wasn't quite sure what was going on in his head. He was always so much harder to read than anyone else. “Are you keeping it?”

“Yes.” She replied quietly, not looking at his eyes. She couldn't be selfish and choose Greg, and she couldn't bear the thought of aborting the child either. She could afford a nanny very easily after all, it wouldn't even have to interfere with her work that much.

In the second it took for him to react she could feel her heart pounding in her chest and the blood pumping in her neck and wrists. All she could smell was Greg, and all she could hear was the roaring in her ears like thunder.

Suddenly Greg's arms were flung around her neck and he was squeezing her tightly. “This is fantastic!” He only pulled back when she finally let out a wince as he leaned on her stomach.

“What- what do you mean it's fantastic?” Of all the ways that she had expected him to react this was not one of them. She had been prepared for him to be angry, shocked, disappointed even, but not happy. Excited. He was positively beaming at her.

“You're pregnant! Of course it's fantastic! I love you!” He leaned in and kissed her deeply, making the heart monitor speed up.

“You- You love me?!” She choked out, and he looked at her with something like nervousness, and even... fear? He looked like he was expecting her to bite his head off for his sudden declaration.

“You seriously didn't know?”

“No I bloody well didn't!”

Now that he seemed to be sure he wouldn't get a bollocking he was looking at her incredulously. “Mycroft you know everything! You know where I had lunch last Tuesday-”

“I don't, but I could find out quite-”

“-Not the point. How can you not notice something like this? You're supposed to be a master of human observation, and it wasn't exactly like I was being subtle!”

She just stared at him. She hadn't seen it at all. Looking back she could almost recognise his gestures, actions and words for what they were. She had seen them in so many other couples; but when she was on the receiving end she just couldn't accept that they were signs of love.

Taking her silence as a bad thing the D.I. Was starting to look embarrassed. “Of course it's not like you need to say anything back-” The words came out in a rush and he was only silenced when Mycroft reached up to grab the back of his head and pulled him down into a bruising kiss, ignoring any pain from her body. This was more important.

“Of course I love you! I just don't- I don't understand why you love me!” She was looking away from her again and her voice was shaky.

“Mycroft...” He barely whispered. “I can't get enough of you! I think you're amazing! You're funny, the most intelligent person I know, interesting, not to mention beautiful! I spend all of free time with you... I'd be mad not to love you.”

Everything in him was so honest at this moment and he was looking at her like he was so desperate for her to believe him. So much so that it was hard not to.

She pulled him down to lie next to her on the bed, biting her lip against the pain.

“We should call the baby Sherlock.” Greg said, and she laughed out loud.

“Oh he'll love that!”

**Author's Note:**

> If anyone has any ideas for an alternate title I'm all auditorious.


End file.
